Scenes From A Relationship
by arliddian
Summary: Moments in Bobby and Rogue's relationship after the events of X3, in approximate chronological order. Three-part series.
1. Part One

**Scenes From A Relationship**

****Part One****

* * *

><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Moments in Bobby and Rogue's relationship after the events of X3, in approximate chronological order. Three-part series.  
><strong>Timeline:<strong> Post-X3  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I don't own anything

* * *

><p><em><span>One<span>_

Out of long-enforced habit, for a week after she was Cured, Rogue flinched every time Bobby went to kiss her. And though she always melted against him a moment later, fear swept away by the rush of remembering and his soft, slightly cool lips, he felt her hesitation every single time.

She never initiated any kisses. She'd spent too long being afraid to touch, she explained. Old habits die hard. He needed to give her time to adjust. But the continued distance, no matter how slight, hurt him, and he wondered sometimes if it was him who made her afraid.

And then early one morning, she knocked on his door. He opened it, tousle-haired and bare-chested, bleary sleep-filled eyes widening at the sight of her.

"Rogue, hi," he stammered, turning to grab the t-shirt that hung on the back of his desk chair.

"Wait." She stopped him by touching his bicep, a touch that was sure and soft. Her eyes followed her fingers as they trailed slowly up his arm, past his shoulder, and across his chest until they rested over his heart. She looked up at his face. He was smiling.

Then she placed her hands on his neck and kissed him.

* * *

><p><em><span>Two<span>_

Bobby rolled his eyes at yet another lame joke in the inane teen comedy they were watching in the rec room. He glanced over at Rogue, eyebrows knitting as he took in her posture. Her elbow rested on the armrest, fingers massaging her temple; she was clearly distracted, gazing unseeingly at the television.

"Are you okay?" Bobby asked, reaching between them to take her hand.

She started at the touch of his fingers, automatically beginning to pull away. He tightened his grip slightly, reassuring and reminding her that it was alright, nothing would happen.

"I'm fine, sugah," she replied, squeezing back. The look on her face was one of gratitude, relieved that he wasn't hurt by her instinctive withdrawal. "It's... it's the psyches."

Concern filled his eyes, and he shifted so he was facing her. "Is it bad?"

She shook her head. "They're gone. It's... there's nothing left. Just me."

Tilting his head to the side, he asked cautiously, "That's... good, right?"

"Yeah. It's just... it used to be so crowded in my head. Now..." Trailing off, she shrugged. "It's strange."

"Think you'll get used to it?"

He shifted closer, letting go of her hand to tuck a few strands of white hair behind her ear. His hand lingered on the back of her neck. The caress was gentle, light, and intimate, and the contact made her shiver a little.

The corners of her lips curved upwards into a small, beautiful smile. "Yeah," she said, leaning into his touch. "It's better this way."

* * *

><p><em><span>Three<span>_

He found her sitting on her bed, reading a novel they'd been assigned for English Lit.

"Hey," he said, knocking lightly and coming in. "Where've you been? I thought we were going to have lunch with Kitty and Jubes."

She closed the book and set it aside, folding her legs and scooting over to make room for him. "Sorry, sugah," she said with an apologetic smile. "I, uh... must have lost track of time."

There was something else going on - he could tell by the way her hands wouldn't stay still, the way her gaze kept darting to the side.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Biting her lip, she glanced away again.

He pressed again, gently. "Rogue." He ducked his head, trying to catch her eye. There was nothing but concern and care in his expression.

"It's nothing," she insisted. But once her eyes met his, she couldn't look away. And she couldn't keep lying. "It's just... this morning, after breakfast... I heard some people talkin' about me."

Bobby's eyes narrowed. "What were they saying?"

She was wringing her hands in her lap, and she couldn't help looking down at him as she spoke. "That I... don't belong here any more."

"What?" He reached out and touched her knee. "That's crazy. Of course you belong."

"This place is a safe haven for mutants, Bobby," she said, looking up at him again. "It's where people go to learn how to control their powers. And I-I'm just..."

He shook his head. "This place is for anyone who needs a home," he said, taking her hands into his own. "The Professor always talked about accepting people for who they are. And anyone who doesn't want to accept _you_ for who _you_ are - they're just as bad as the people who force us to look for a safe haven. They're not worth listening to."

She pressed her lips together. He was right, of course. "I know. It's just hard, knowing what people are saying behind my back."

"Hey." He leaned in and kissed her, soft and gentle and chaste. When he pulled away, there was a hint of a smile on her face. "Don't pay any attention to them. You know there are people here who love you, cured or not."

She drew back a little and stared at him, expression surprised and maybe a little bit scared. Neither of them had ever used the L-word before. "Who... what now?"

"Love you." Bobby knew exactly what he had said, and he knew the deeper meaning that his words had carried. Breathing deeply and squeezing her hands a little tighter, he said it again, the way it was meant to be said. "I love you."

She blinked, eyebrows shooting up.

"It's okay if you don't want to say it back," he went on before she could say anything. "There's no pressure."

"Bobby-"

"I just want you to know that I love you for who you are," he kept going, words tumbling out of his mouth. "It's not because we can touch now. I'd still love you even if you hadn't taken the Cure."

"Bobby."

He stopped talking, finally, and she pressed her lips to his, revelling in the contact and the way she could feel how much he cared about her in the way his hands came up and held her like she was something precious.

When their lips parted, she touched his cheek, expression sobering.

"I love you too," she said, her voice so quiet that Bobby almost didn't hear her.

He was obviously taken aback. "Are you sure?" he blurted out unthinkingly, the combination of her kiss and her words having seemingly short-circuited his brain-to-mouth pathways.

The unamused look she gave him, complete with one raised eyebrow, brought him back to earth.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "It's just... I didn't expect you to say it back."

"Well," she replied seriously. "I am. And I do, sugah. I mean it."

He gazed at her for a long moment, and then he pulled her close, kissing her mouth again. When they parted, he detoured to drop a kiss on her forehead, and she nestled into his arms.

They fit together like puzzle pieces, and she found herself thinking that he was right - this was where she belonged.


	2. Part Two

**Scenes From A Relationship **

**Part Two**

* * *

><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Moments in Bobby and Rogue's relationship after the events of X3, in approximate chronological order. Three-part series.  
><strong>Timeline:<strong> Post-X3  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I don't own anything

* * *

><p><em><span>One<span>_

He hadn't been his usual cheerful self, not since Alcatraz. Some heavy emotion was weighing him down, something more than just grief for his fallen teachers or the aftermath of a war.

He tried to hide it for her sake, as attentive and supportive as ever while she learned to deal with being Cured. But she knew something was wrong. He was quieter now, and spent much more time walking the grounds alone. Sometimes when they were together, she could tell that he was not totally present, his mind on some other, darker thoughts.

She didn't push him, knowing that he'd talk about whatever was bothering him when he was ready to deal with it. But waiting was hard. She wanted to be there for him the way he was always there for her.

After class one afternoon, he disappeared. It wasn't until after dinner that she found him, sitting with head bowed on the floor of the now-empty room he used to share with John, back before the raid on the mansion.

"Bobby?" she said softly as she walked in. "I've been looking all over for you, sugah. What're you doing in here?"

He didn't say anything. He didn't even look up. So she sat in front of him and waited, placing a hand on his arm, watching him worriedly.

"It's my fault," he said finally, voice hoarse and thick with emotion.

"What's your fault?"

"John." He finally looked up at her, and she was shocked to see that his face was wet. "I know he was with the enemy. And I know he was fighting against us. But he used to be my best friend, and I just... I knocked him out and just left him there, at Alcatraz. He's dead because of me."

Her throat felt constricted and it took her several moments to speak. She had never seen him broken like this before.

"It... it wasn't your fault, sugah," she murmured, shifting closer to him, trying to comfort and reassure him. "Kitty told me you went back to find him and bring him back. You did what you could. It's not your fault."

"But I left him there, all that time," he said. "I could have gotten him to safety sooner."

"You were helping Kitty get Leech to the Blackbird," she tried again. "You were doing your duty to your team."

"Even before Alcatraz," Bobby went on as if he hadn't heard her. "At Alkali Lake, when he left the Blackbird... I could have stopped him. I could have gone after him and gotten him to come back with us. All of the things he did with the Brotherhood... if I'd just gone after him..."

"No," she interrupted firmly. "He made his choice. He never wanted to be an X-Man, you know that. He would have gone anyway."

"You don't know that." He looked away again, staring down at his hands.

"Maybe not for sure," she answered readily. "But which one of us had his psyche in her head for almost a year?"

He glanced up at her again, expression softening. "Yeah. Sorry, sometimes I..."

She shrugged off his apology. "It doesn't matter." Taking his hands in her, she forced him to look her in the eye. He voice was firm but tender as she spoke. "Bobby, what happened with John was not your fault. I don't think he ever felt like he belonged here. He made his own bad decisions. You don't know that he'd have changed his mind if you'd gone after him. And at Alcatraz, you did everything you could to bring him back. You didn't have to go back for him. - you could've left and not looked back, but you risked your own safety to try and find him. So don't feel guilty, because _none _of this was your fault."

He stayed silent, just gazing into her eyes, and she hoped that what he saw there would help him to believe her. Finally he pressed his lips together, closed his eyes and sighed.

"You're right," he said, and he opened his eyes again. "I just... Everything he did... I still get so _angry _thinking about it. But we used to be friends."

Her hand reached up and gently caressed his cheek. "I know," she said quietly. Silently, he opened up his arms and she moved into his embrace, pressing her face to his neck. She held him tightly, offering him all the comfort she had in her body to give.

* * *

><p><em><span>Two<span>_

It was late. Most of the mansion's residents had already gone to bed when Rogue knocked on Bobby's door.

"Ready?" she asked when he opened it.

"Yeah," he responded, slipping out, handing her a blanket while he shut the door.

They made their way down to the lake in silence, holding hands. Nobody else was coming - they figured that they had probably been John's only real friends, so they hadn't invited anyone else to join them.

The woodpile was waiting for them, exactly as how Bobby had left it after class. While Rogue spread out the blanket a short distance away, he started the fire. When he was done, he came over and sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She nestled back against his chest and rested her hands on top of his, and they sat there together, watching the flames lick the wood.

"Do you want to say something, or should I?" she asked him, twisting a little to look up at him.

He was silent for a long time, various emotions flickering in his eyes. She turned to face the fire again, and had just opened her mouth to say something when he suddenly spoke.

"John," he said, addressing the small bonfire. "You were a jerk. And an asshole. You did a lot of stupid, dangerous, terrible things. I don't think I'll ever really understand why you made the choices you did, or how you became that guy fighting with Magneto at Alcatraz."

His voice caught slightly on the last word, and she shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms tighter around his, offering wordless encouragement.

"But for what it's worth," he went on, speaking slowly in order to keep a check on his emotions. "You were... you were a good friend, sometimes. And I-I'm sorry. For everything. I'm sorry I couldn't... that I didn't save you."

The lump in his throat kept him from saying any more. Instead, he squeezed his girlfriend briefly and rested his chin on her head.

"Bye, John," was all Rogue said to their little memorial. She knew that it was Bobby who needed this peace, this closure. And she was glad she was here to comfort him through it.

They sat and watched until the flames burned down to embers and the sky began to lighten. Wordlessly, Bobby got up and sent a small stream of ice to put it out completely, while Rogue shook out and folded up the blanket.

They started to make their way back up to the mansion, but she stopped him, putting a hand on his arm.

"You okay, sugah?" she asked softly, concerned eyes searching his face.

He gave her a small, sad smile, and she dropped the blanket and slipped her arms around him, holding him loosely so she could keep looking at his face.

"Not really," he told her honestly, arms tightening around her waist. "But I think I will be."

She smiled at this and leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. One of his hands moved to tangle in the hair at the back of her head, pulling her closer and deepening their kiss.

He rested his forehead against hers when they pulled apart, hand returning to her waist.

"Thank you," he whispered. "You're amazing."

Another smile curved her lips. She hugged him close, and they melted into the comfort of each others' embrace.


	3. Part Three

**Scenes From A Relationship **

**Part Three**

* * *

><p><strong>Summary: <strong>Moments in Bobby and Rogue's relationship after the events of X3, in approximate chronological order. Three-part series.  
><strong>Timeline:<strong> Post-X3  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I don't own anything

* * *

><p><em><span>One<span>_

She was curled up and reading on the rec room couch when he came in. He seemed excited, energetic, more animated than she'd seen him in months. Once more she realised how much Alcatraz and its aftermath had taken from them, changed them. But he looked so cheerful that she put those thoughts and her book away.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked, smiling with one eyebrow raised.

He took her hand and tugged, pulling her to her feet. "Come on," he said simply, smiling that crooked smile that caused a flutter in her stomach - an expression that she hadn't seen on his face for a long time. "It's been ages since we've gone ice-skating."

He began leading her to the door, but she stopped short.

"We're not actually going _outside_, are we?" Her tone was light, half-serious and half-teasing.

He turned back to her, still holding her hand. "Why not?"

"It's winter," she pointed out. "It'll be freezing."

He pulled her to him suddenly, and she bumped against him in surprise, hands automatically flattening against his chest.

"I'll warm you up," he murmured in a low voice, expression mischievous and playful, his hands slipping just under the hem of her sweater. She gasped slightly at the sudden touch of his hands on her skin, and gasped again when he ducked his head to lightly kiss her neck, just over her pulse point.

"Sugah," she said breathlessly as he pulled away to smirk at her. She drew a deep breath to calm down, and then tossed him a smirk of her own. "I don't know if you know this, but you're the _Ice_man."

"Is that a challenge?" His hands slid just a bit higher under her sweater, and he dipped down to kiss her neck again.

She was breathing a little heavily when he finally took his lips from her skin, her eyes opening slowly. He was acting rather unlike him, much more forward than he'd ever been before. He smiled at her, and she half-closed one eye at him, slipping her arms around his neck.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked again.

He shrugged and slid his hands out from under her top, instead running them up and down her back. His expression turned just a little more serious. "It's been months since..." He trailed off, finding it unnecessary to finish the sentence. "I just think... I think it's time we had some fun, stopped dwelling on all the things that went wrong, that we lost."

Squeezing her lightly, he smiled again, this time a warm and genuine smile. "I've got this home, this family. I've got you. I get to do this whenever I want..." He leaned in for a soft, lingering kiss, and then pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. "I'm happy."

Something warm and content swelled in her at his touch, his words. Her arms tightened around him and she pressed her whole body against his, shifting so she could turn her face to his neck.

"Me too," she murmured, her lips brushing over his skin as she spoke. A slight shiver ran through him, and she smiled.

He leaned back and kissed her again, deeper and more passionate than the last kiss. His hands found their way under her sweater again, fingers tracing lightly over her back, making her shiver and press harder against his mouth.

And then all too soon, it was over, and he was tugging her through the door and pulling her out towards the lake.

"Come on," he grinned. "Ice skating."

He snaked an arm around her, rubbing her arm as they walked in step. And as they entered the cold night air, she leaned into him, revelling in the warmth of his body, the warmth of his love.

* * *

><p><em><span>Two<span>_

She learned not to pay attention to the whispers that still followed her down the halls. She learned to be content with hand-to-hand combat training, with being placed on the sidelines when Storm wanted the rest of the team to run drills with their powers. She learned not to be bothered when new students arrived and, inevitably, asked her what she could do.

She learned to deal with all those things because they were just the trade-off for the freedom of being able to touch. The freedom of walking through crowds, unafraid of being jostled. The freedom of wearing strappy tops and short skirts, carefree. The freedom of all the little touches she and Bobby had been denied: an arm around her waist, fingers brushing her cheek and sliding over her neck, his lips moving over hers.

She was no longer the shy, cautious girl who had arrived with Logan years ago. No longer the runaway who was trying to escape herself. And now, she finally felt comfortable in herself. Content with who she was and what she had. Here, she had a home. She had a family. And she had Bobby - Bobby, who loved her unconditionally, in all his uncomplicated goodness. Bobby, who never pushed her, just waited patiently.

They hadn't talked much about her past before she came to the mansion. She knew he was curious, that he wanted to know her completely, but she never could seem to talk about that life. He just waited, told her that he knew it was hard for her to open up, and that he would be content with whatever she wanted to share with him. And yet, she felt guilty - he opened himself to her so freely, so confident in his trust in her, while she couldn't bring herself to tell him what her real name was.

He dropped next to her onto the couch in the rec room, slipping an arm around her and kissing her softly on the mouth.

"Hey, Rogue," he greeted her, a warm smile on his face that she knew was exclusively hers.

She trusted him completely. And she decided it was time to show him.

"Marie," she corrected softly, reaching for his free hand and entwining her fingers with his. "My name's Marie."

And the way he looked at her (surprised and wondering and awed) and then repeated her name in a hushed voice before kissing her again - she knew she loved him completely, too.

* * *

><p><em><span>Three<span>_

This is how it happened:

It was summer, late at night. They were lying on his bed, him bare-chested, her in a thin singlet and shorts. He used his powers to cool the air around them, occasionally blowing a freezing-cold breath on her neck, making her laugh. They were making plans: silly plans of a holiday to Australia (because he knew she hated the cold, so that ruled out Europe), serious plans about college, the future. He cautiously floated the idea of them moving out of the mansion together some day. She gave him a small smile and lightly poked him in the chest, saying that she'd only do it if he learned how to tidy up more often. He caught her hand and pulled her in for a kiss, secretly elated that she hadn't said no. They talked lazily, eyes beginning to droop as they held each other, his hand gliding up and down her side, hers tracing looping patterns over the bare skin of his chest.

They fell asleep like that, secure and safe in a close embrace, bare legs entwined. The last thing she thought before she drifted off was _I could get used to this._

It was the plummeting temperature that jerked her awake, the strange and yet painfully familiar feeling of cold flooding her body. She bolted upright and immediately clutched her head, crying out as a rush of voices swamped her, Bobby's loudest of all, one thought that must have been his last reverberating in her mind: _I love her_.

His arm was still draped over her stomach, and it was the realisation of its dead weight that forced her gaze down to him. And as she took in his lifeless body, veins standing out in sharp relief against his too-pale skin, she screamed, a sound of shock and pain and anguish and guilt torn from her and echoing down the halls.

They carried him, grey and twitching, down to the med bay. And curled up and rocking with her arms over her head, she couldn't bring herself to watch. Just like that, their plans dissolved, their dreams evaporated, and Marie became Rogue once more.

_Fin_


End file.
